Monsters of War
by Harp in the Willows
Summary: As Mina Harker's last living descendant, Amelia carries the cursed blood of the No-Life King in her veins. Aware of the potential threat she poses, Hellsing seeks her out with the intention of protecting her; but Millennium has its own plans in store… Contains HansxOC and some AlucardxOC.
1. Chapter 1

**Read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

Amelia swept out the remaining leaves that had blown in to the small produce store in Hague. It was almost the middle of October, and in her opinion, too cold outside for the doors to remain propped open.

The wind had picked up around five o'clock, and the leaves that she had just removed from the wooden floor threatened to roll back in. Fumbling with the broom, she moved forward to quickly shut the doors before her cleaning job was extended.

She let out a relieved sigh. _Forget what Mr. Richards says. If I don't close the doors I'll be cleaning this floor until tomorrow morning._

"Miss Seward." Amelia spun at the voice behind her. "I didn't know you were still here." The store's short and elderly owner came out from the storage room that also served as his office.

"Mr. Richards, I just finished cleaning. Is there something you need?" Amelia placed the broom back in its usual spot by the cash register before straightening to await her employer's reply.

"I was planning on locking up early, but you're still here." Mr. Richards' mouth was hidden by a large white mustache, but the wrinkles on his face suggested he was smiling.

"I can lock up, if you have somewhere to go," she assured him, untying the apron around her waist.

Mr. Richards adjusted the scarf around his neck and shuffled to the door. "If you wouldn't mind… My son's visiting from London, and Sherry says that I'd better be home for dinner if I want to eat tonight." He chuckled and Amelia smiled. "I heard you sent in your essay and test results to the university; have you heard back from them yet?"

She shook her head. "I won't hear anything for a few more weeks."

The old man nodded and waved, pushing open the front doors. "Have a nice night."

"You too." The front door closed behind him with a soft _click_.

Folding her apron and putting it on an empty shelf under the counter, she checked to make sure the rear door was bolted. Satisfied, she pulled on her coat and strode to the front doors, giving one last glance over the store's interior before stepping out into the autumn gale and locking the doors.

The sun had already dipped below the horizon some time ago, and if she didn't hurry, it would be completely dark before she got home. On most days she left the store before the sun began to set, but the tomato stand had collapsed and she needed to clean up the stains and find another place to put the vegetables before continuing her final sweep. Considering the store was older than her, it was a surprise the other stands had not yet collapsed.

The wind pushed her dark brown hair back from her face, and she hunched her shoulders and folded her arms over her chest in an attempt to stay warm. "I should have brought my hat with me. My mistake for trusting the weatherman," she chuckled mirthlessly.

Something crunched in the dry leaves behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder. The road was empty; the few stores that made up the small town had their lights off. No one actually lived in 'downtown' Hague. All residents stayed in small houses spread throughout the wooded landscape.

The stories her father had told when she was young, of vampires and other nocturnal monsters, came to mind as she made her way down the dirt road exiting the town, skeletal tree branches reaching for her on the left and right.

"Oh, rubbish," she reminded herself softly. "Father was always one to believe in crazy stories, going on about that vampire nonsense." Shrugging off the noise, she picked up the pace and continued on her way.

The sound of crackling leaves continued after she was surrounded by trees. _It must be wolves. Who else would be out in this crazy weather?_ Again she looked over her shoulder to see nothing. It was possible they were hiding amongst the trees.

Facing forward, she noticed someone coming over the hill. A long cloak billowed around the bulky frame of a man while a hood hid his face.

_Looks like a man – a very suspicious man at that._ Amelia kept her head down, but her eyes on the man. Growing up in such a small town, she knew the name and appearance of every person, and this man she did not recognize.

She uncrossed her arms as they drew closer to one another, ready to react if he gave her trouble. It was more than self-preservation that fueled her actions. Along with timidity, her father had also passed on his social anxiety. Then again, it was because of her father's nervousness around others and later paranoia that she had been made to learn self-defense.

The hooded man was close enough that he could speak to her without yelling to be heard…

A couple meters away now…

Shoulder to shoulder…

He passed her…

The sound of his footsteps changed, and Amelia spun around as the man launched himself at her. When he grabbed her by the biceps, she instinctively swung her foot up between his legs with all her might. Her sneaker connected and the man doubled over, swearing loudly as his grip loosened. Intending to make him release her entirely, she moved her arms down and brought her knee up to his face.

"Ah!" Her knee cap connected with something hard – a mask maybe? – and her attacker fell forward.

"Shoot, you idiot!" The hooded man spoke with a German accent, his voice slightly muffled by whatever was covering his face.

_Oh, God, he's not alone! Someone has a gun!_ She ran as fast as her legs could manage, her first few steps shaky from the pain in her knee. But fear quickly overruled the pain as she made serpentine turns down the road, hoping the maneuver would prevent her from being hit by bullets or whatever might be fired at her.

A gunshot rang out above the howling wind, and something grazed the shoulder of her coat. The gunfire sounded from the left, so she needed to head in the opposite direction.

She veered to the right and off into the forest, another gunshot ringing behind her, and she ducked as something cracked against the tree trunk beside her. A second later it occurred to her that there could be someone waiting to shoot her from this area of the forest as well. _No, it's too late. Keep going. These people are armed and trying to hurt you, but you've lived here for almost your entire life – you know the landscape better than they do!_

Weaving around trees, she continued running with no destination in mind but away from the danger.

* * *

Clive Richards stepped onto the back porch of his parents' house and lit his cigarette, turning his back to the wind. His mother refused to let him smoke in the house, and his father had yet to arrive. He should be able to get one quick smoke in before dinner.

The trees around the house waved, their leaves rattling, and the middle-aged man wondered if a storm was coming. He frowned at the thought, thinking the weather an ominous sign of things to come.

Tomorrow he would go to Amelia Seward's house and bring her to London. Sir Integra herself had called on him to safely transport the teenager to Hellsing headquarters, a case of rarely displayed trust. Apparently the youth was unaware of the potential threat she posed, or the danger she was in because of her heritage.

It had taken the Hellsing Organization quite a long time to find her, their search made harder since her grandfather, Jonathon Harker, disappeared and changed names many decades back. It was only about two months back that Hellsing's intel came across the young woman's file and found her connection to the late solicitor and his missing wife, Mina Harker. After that, the time it took to verify her identity and location had been significantly long. Jonathon Harker had not wanted his family to be found.

Gunfire startled Clive out of his thoughts. Ridding himself of the cigarette, his hand moved to one of the guns under his coat.

In a few strides he opened the backdoor and called out to his mother in the kitchen. "I'm going out for a few minutes. Don't wait on me if I'm not back in time for supper."

Not waiting for a reply, he closed the door and moved away from the house, heading in the direction of the gunshot. His heart was pounding in his chest as he pulled out a gun. Yes, the weather was definitely a sign of troubled times ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone who put this story on their alert/favorite list, and to my reviewers: VampireSiren, hellsingfan101, and ValueMyHeart. Muffins and cookies for all of you! I hope all of you reading this find the story interesting so far – and will continue to think it is in the future – or at least entertaining (nonsensical?) enough to return for another chapter.**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

Amelia stopped to catch her breath behind a tree, covering her mouth with a hand to stifle her panting, even though the wind already drowned out the sound.

Her daily morning jogs were now coming in handy. If not for the regular exercise, she wouldn't have made it as far as she had. Unfortunately, this wasn't a jog, and she knew couldn't keep up the pace for much longer.

Listening for sounds of pursuit, she glanced at the trees around her. It was a good thing the moon was out; otherwise she would be running blind.

A disturbing thought came into her head as she rubbed at the bruised knee. _If those guys are still chasing me, will they use flashlights to see, or will they have night-vision goggles?_ The latter was a possibility, considering the man she hit was wearing something hard over his face. But the mask was not the only observation she had made in the brief encounter.

In evading the projectile, she had noticed that the hidden sniper did not fire a bullet, but instead a tranquilizer dart. Whoever they were, they weren't trying to kill her; they wanted her alive and unconscious.

The horrors that could befall her at the hands of the attackers knotted her stomach, and drove her to push away from the tree and resume running. _I can't get caught, or it's all over!_

In her haste to run, she felt her leg catch on a fallen tree branch. With a jean-clad limb ensnared, she unceremoniously fell forward, sending a stab of pain through her already injured knee when it hit the ground.

With a grunt, she scrambled back onto her tired and now aching legs.

It was then that she saw the dark form move out from behind the tree in front of her. Even in the dim light, it was easy to make out the gun leveled at her head.

Amelia made a startled noise, hands raised defensively.

"Don't move," a masculine voice warned as the figure stepped closer, moonlight illuminating his face. The wind carried the faint smell of cigarettes.

Pausing a few feet away, the stranger lowered his gun. "Amelia Seward?"

"How do you know who I am? What do you people want with me?" Amelia demanded, fear heightening her voice. Talking to strangers was uncomfortable for her, but if it was a choice between trying to reason her way out of this situation and getting shot or kidnapped…

"I work for an organization that serves the Queen and this country. And, if I heard you correctly, you seem to be confused. There's no one here but me." The man's brows furrowed at the teenager's panicked expression, and he took note of her heavy breathing.

The gun was raised again, but not in her direction. "Someone's chasing you?" He lowered his voice and looked into the trees surrounding them.

"I was attacked by a hooded man. Someone hiding in the trees had a tranquilizer gun. I – I think they're still following me." She took a step backward when the man stepped forward. As far as she was concerned, he could be the hooded man's accomplice.

Noticing her suspicion, the middle-aged man let out an impatient sigh. "I'm not with whoever is chasing you, and I don't mean you any harm. I heard a gunshot and came to investigate." The man seemed to be staring at something behind her, and he motioned for her to come closer.

She inched forward, but kept a decent amount of space between them.

"My name is Clive Richards, and I am from the Hellsing Organization. Remember both of those names." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it to her. "Keep this."

_Richards? Is he Mr. Richards' son – the one visiting from London?_ She cautiously closed the space between them and took the card, glancing at the contact information before slipping it into her pants pocket.

"I was sent here to escort you to London, where you would be under Hellsing's protection, but it seems someone else has plans for you."

Now Amelia could hear sounds over the wind, a few shouts and the stomping of heavy feet.

"There's no more time. I'm sorry things could not have gone more smoothly." Clive sent her a sympathetic look. "You need to run as far away from Hague as you can. Get to London, and call the number on the card I gave you. Hellsing will take care of you." He reached for her shoulder and gave it a small push in the direction she had been running before his interruption.

Amelia held back the urge to scream and pull at her hair in frustration. She didn't really understand what was happening or why the man kept mentioning this Hellsing's concern for her – she'd never even heard of such an organization! Mr. Richards' son was mistaken; and so were the people who had attacked her. Everyone had her confused with someone important.

When she didn't move, a hand waved frantically at her. "Go! Now!"

Reluctantly, Amelia turned her back on the man and ran, leaving him to deal with her pursuers.

* * *

Clive Richards let out a long breath. Pulling out his second gun, he surveyed the darkness around him.

It wasn't long before four dark shapes detached themselves from the trees. One wore a cloak with the hood up while the other three dressed in military clothing; all carried firearms. One held a sniper rifle at the ready.

"Who are you?" Clive demanded, holding his guns steady and pointing at the men. Hopefully he would be able to buy enough time for Amelia to escape to a safe location. If he could make it out of here alive, he might be able to glean some information from the mysterious men as well.

The sniper shifted the weapon in his hands, and a red bandage around his upper arm caught Clive's eye. A swastika.

_I knew these guys were not good judging by their appearances, but Nazis? What would they want Amelia for?_

"Captain?" One of the Nazi soldiers turned to a figure whose presence Clive had not noticed at first.

The man was tall, dressed in a brown uniform and cap, and gave off a dangerous air. As if to emphasize his threat, there were firearms and a hunting knife strapped at his belt. The silent man regarded Clive for a moment, and then gave an almost imperceptible nod to the soldiers.

Clive fired his guns a second before the Nazi gunmen, simultaneously moving behind a thick trunk for some cover from their return fire.

One of the soldiers fell, and another shouted in pain as a bullet punctured his thigh. The others continued firing their guns, indifferent towards their dead and injured comrades.

Four against one.

A brown blur shot past the tree Clive was hiding behind, and he had only a second to register the back of the flapping coat belonging to the man addressed as Captain, before he disappeared in the direction Amelia had run off in.

_His speed is practically inhuman,_ Clive noted, eyes wide in astonishment.

Three against one… If the injured soldier got back up.

_Who – or what – are these guys?_ He silently questioned as he sucked in a determined breath, ready to return fire.

"Uh!" There was a sudden, burning pain in his abdomen. Looking down, he realized he had been shot. The grey of his coat and shirt were quickly turning dark red around his stomach. He tasted copper and dropped to his knees, clenching his jaw against the pain.

By now the soldiers must have realized the trunk was too thick to pierce with one shot, and were trying to drill their way through the tree's body with their bullets.

There was the sound of crunching bark, and another bullet grazed his left shoulder. The gun in his right hand clattered to the ground.

Reaching inside his pocket for a tracking beacon, he found the small device and curled his free hand around it, a blue light blinking on.

_Sorry Mum, but I think I'm going to be late for dinner._

Leaning around the tree trunk, he unloaded the rest of his magazine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to everyone who has put this story on their alert/favorite list! **

**Read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

Even with adrenaline fueling her limbs, Amelia's pace had definitely slowed. Gunfire sounded behind her, and it took all of her self-control to not look back. An uncontrollable sob escaped her lips as she blinked back tears.

_Keep running. Don't look back. Don't think of anything else._ It was a statement easier said than done.

There was a soft beating noise, and at first she thought it was her heart pounding in her ears. The noise was growing louder with each passing second, and to her horror, she realized it was coming from behind.

Her muscles tensed and she risked a backward glance, just as something solid connected with her stomach. She had unknowingly run in to someone's punch. The wind knocked out of her, she leaned forward in an attempt to breath.

The fist loosened for a moment before clenching the fabric at her stomach, shoving her backward and into the ground. Spots danced in her vision as the back of her head hit the earth.

Coughing, she raised her eyes to the man hovering over her, taking note of the white hair spilling out from under his cap. Red eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, boring into her. _Does a human with such an appearance really exist? It's unnatural and…disturbing._ His skin was too tan for that of an albino, and his eyes were a shade too dark to be considered pink.

Gasping at the pain in her gut, she grabbed his wrist in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pressure pushing her into the ground. Even with the coat on she could feel the hardened muscles of his forearm. It was enough to let her know that she had no chance of winning against his physical strength.

"Let… me… go…!" She struggled to no avail, trying to twist out of his grip.

The man did not reply, but in one swift motion, lifted her up and over his shoulder.

He stood up, and she instinctively grabbed a fistful of his coat. _This guy is _tall_. _Too _tall._

Getting over his height, she swung her leg, intending to kick him as hard as she could manage in her uncomfortable position.

A firm hand caught her ankle before she could do any harm and began to squeeze.

"Owowowowow!" Amelia hissed as the man began carrying her back the way she had come.

After a few more seconds of pain, the man released her ankle. Even though she couldn't see it, she was sure he was giving her an over-the-shoulder look that warned against further struggling.

"W-where are you taking me? What are you going to do?" No answer. Either he was intentionally ignoring her, or he was mute. It was most likely the first.

For the next few minutes they continued on in silence. Amelia chose not to struggle. The man's display of strength was unnerving to say the least, and she would probably have a better chance of escaping if she wasn't in his iron grip or thrown over his shoulder like a disobedient child.

A foul stench permeated her senses, and her captor stopped walking. It was a welcome respite from the discomfort of the man's shoulder pressing into her sore gut at each step. _But the smell…_ She swallowed heavily and looked around.

There were dark patches in the grass, and numerous bullet holes in the trunk of the closest tree. A figure lay unmoving beside it.

Amelia felt her heart beat speed up and she looked away. _Clive Richards. He…_ Bile rose in her throat, and she rubbed at her eyes, trying to remove the bloody image.

"Captain," a strained voice spoke from behind her.

The Captain – apparently the man who was carrying her – turned, giving Amelia a view of another corpse a few feet away. She noticed the black emblem on his sleeve. _What, they're Nazis? _Nazis_ are after me? No, this is ridiculous. Why would Nazis come after me?_ The smell was stronger now that she was facing death, and she pinched her nose and shut her eyes at the carnage.

"Some tranquilizers left," the unseen speaker panted in a thick German accent. "Take them… The others, are dead…" He gave a wet cough; it didn't sound good.

"… Bastard activated… a tracking device... emergency… code…" Another cough. It was possible the man was dying, his voice growing softer and words cutting off as he continued. "They… send operatives, and… Heh…"

There was a sickening gasp, and Amelia found herself wanting more than anything for the man to die or pass out – anything to stop the noise.

"Si-sieg –"

An abrupt silence washed over the area. For a couple of seconds, the wind calmed.

The Captain crouched down, and from her position she could feel his arm extend. Plastic or glass clinked together, and then he stood back up. The hand that had been resting on her back grabbed her coat collar, pulling her off the shoulder and nearly choking her in the process. His hand did not release her collar when she was placed on the ground in front of him.

Something glinted in the dim light: a small dart in the man's large hand.

Instinctively, she took a step backward, and her leg hit something. Her muscles tensed, and it felt like her stomach flipped. The grip on her coat tightened, but her eyes remained on the dart's needle as it was moved closer.

_Tranquilizer dart… Where's he going to stab that thing?_ Her hands protectively clamped around her neck.

The Captain removed his hand from her collar and grabbed her left forearm, simultaneously pulling the coat sleeve back from her wrist.

_No, no! I can't stop him! No matter what I do, something's exposed!_ She removed her hands from her neck and held the man's sleeve tightly.

"Please! Please don't!" Needles terrified her. They ranked second after conversing with strangers on her list of fears. "I promise I won't do anything! Please!"

The hand with the dart paused at her words, and she cringed at the tranquilizer's close proximity. Her panicked eyes rose to meet those of the Captain's, pleading with him to not use the tranquilizer.

Two red orbs stared back, the man's face emotionless. His grip tightened on her wrist and he raised the tranquilizer to the moonlight so that she could see it clearly, his eyes never leaving hers. Slowly, the dart was tucked in the safety of his coat pocket. Although he didn't speak, the message was understood: if she attempted anything, the tranquilizer would be put to use.

A blue light suddenly came from behind her and she looked over her shoulder, only to remember an instant too late that there was a corpse at her feet. But the shock from the sight of blue fire burning where the body was prevented her from looking away. Another blue burst appeared in her peripheral vision. The flames were unearthly, and unlike those of a regular fire, did not set light to the grass or trees, nor to her foot beside it.

In seconds, nothing was left of the soldier.

Having forgotten about the hand on her forearm, she stumbled forward when it gave a small tug. "Oof!" The Captain had crouched over, and her bruised stomach hit his shoulder.

He let go of her wrist and moved a hand to her lower back, keeping her balanced as he lifted her off the ground. The position was painfully familiar; what she did not expect was for the Captain to take off at the pace he did.

It wasn't a casual walk this time – it was a run. Though he sprinted at the speed of someone on an Olympic track team, his movement was too graceful for the average person. Not even the darkness was enough to slow his progress.

The wind had picked up again, blowing strands of her dark hair in her face. She closed her eyes tightly. _How can this man run so fast? It's not _normal_!_

The Captain's hand pressed harder on her back, ensuring she did not fall off, and she could swear his speed increased.


	4. Chapter 4

**A special thank you to my reviewer: warrioroftheravens! Thank you as well to those who have put this story on their alert/favorite list! You're all motivating me to update, and I graciously thank you for your interest and support; it means a lot to me!**

**Read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

The next time Amelia opened her eyes, the sounds of the forest had been replaced with the rumble of engines and roar of airplanes. It was still dark out, and she did not know how far or for how long they had travelled, but both her mind and body were weary from the journey. She had kept silent the entire way, in hopes that her captor would stop and rest at some point, giving her a chance to escape. No such luck.

The Captain came to a stop after having slowed his pace in the past two minutes or so, and he removed her from his shoulder and placed her unceremoniously on the ground.

She noticed a light source coming from behind her after she got her bearings, and the man lifted a hand to point at something at her back. Her gaze flickered cautiously to the side and then back to the Captain before she made a half-turn, unwilling to put her back to the dangerous person.

A large building was behind her, separated by a high chain-link fence. Cars and buses came and went on one side of the building, the small silhouettes of people flowing in and out of the swinging doors. She risked turning a little farther, and saw a large plane moving away from her down a long runway lit with blue lights: an airport.

A hand touched her shoulder and she gave a violent start, her fingers clutching at the fabric over her chest. The Captain pushed her along the side of the fence and away from the building's entrance.

When they were almost to the runway, his grip tightened, and she abruptly halted. It was darker now that the building was farther away, but her eyes had begun to adjust to dimness, and the Captain's figure was still visible. He pointed to the fence.

Frowning, the teenager looked from the fence and to the man standing beside her. "You – you want me to climb it?" Disbelief and fear rang clearly in her voice. A nod from the Captain, and he released her shoulder.

For a moment, she thought of screaming. Despite the noise from the planes, there were people working on the ground, and her voice would probably carry. Then again, it was probably a simple thing for this man to snap her neck… The idea could wait.

Cautiously approaching the fence, she reached out and curled her fingers around its links. She had never climbed a fence before; it was an action she always associated with juvenile delinquents and burglars. With a grunt she pulled herself up, digging in the toes of her shoes for purchase.

Reaching the top wasn't as difficult as she thought it would be, but her fingers were beginning to ache from pulling herself upward when she got there. Rubbing her hands together for warmth, she balanced at the top of the fence and looked over her shoulder. The silent man was gone.

She felt a spark of hope within her, and turned towards the opposite shoulder, nearly losing her balance at the sight of the man crouched atop the fence a couple of feet away. Gripping the fence with white knuckles, she stared at him with wide eyes.

His eyes still glowed unnaturally in the darkness as he stared back, tilting his head toward the runway.

Amelia blinked and turned away, her heart hammering. _No presence, no emotion, glowing red eyes… What is he?_ Partially hoping she would never know the answer to her question, she busied herself with shuffling down the fence.

When she got to the bottom, the Captain was already waiting. Grabbing her by the upper arm, he pulled her close to his side and began walking towards the runway. She didn't try to move away, although she did dislike being touched – especially by some creepy Nazi.

They walked at a brisk pace, but no one stopped them. A couple of men near the planes glanced their way, but none of them called for security or questioned the presence of a strange-looking man and a frightened teenager.

_Something is wrong with these employees…_ Thought Amelia as she passed another man, who didn't even look at them when they walked by.

After a few more minutes of walking, it became apparent they were headed for a small private jet stationed at the end of the building and farther away from the other planes.

In the darkness lit by the exterior lights on the jet, Amelia was able to make out the forms of three people standing by the boarding stairs. Two wore matching military uniforms, the dark fabric making them almost blend into the night. The third was dressed in white, his skinny figure and tall frame making him stand out amongst his companions. The lights glinted off his glasses, and a smile stretched wider across his face as she and the Captain approached.

When they came to a stop in front of him he bent down at eye level with her. Now that he was closer, she could see that his glasses had several lenses of varying size, and parts of his white coat were not covered in shadow but in dark stains. His strange fashion also left his pale mid-torso visible, and overall he reminded her of a skeleton.

"You're sure it's her? Yes, yes, I can see the resemblance now!" He answered his own question, German accent lighter compared to those of the soldiers who had attacked her earlier.

He leaned closer and Amelia leaned back, bumping into the Captain.

"Well done, Captain! Ah, where are the others?" The glasses flashed as they removed their attention from her face and to the Captain. His white-coated shoulders sagged for a moment before stiffening at the unspoken response. "A shame – unless they're like the Major… No matter, we must be off."

He glanced at her again, his Cheshire grin still in place. "Bring her in; I want to get started as soon as possible."

"No." The thin man had half-way turned towards the plane, but paused in his step when she spoke.

She raised her voice, trying to sound braver than she looked. "I don't know who you are, but I don't want to go with you. I have rights; what you're doing is considered kidnapping." Her heart was beating so fast and loud, she wouldn't be surprised if everyone around could hear it.

The hand on her arm tightened: a silent warning.

"You have rights, and we have power and influence. It's best not to struggle." It would have been easier to acknowledge the man's words if his appearance wasn't so disturbing and the atmosphere so threatening.

Amelia gave her captive arm a hard tug. If she wanted to escape, now was the time – and possibly her last chance – to do so. _I should have shouted out sooner, or tried to break away near the airport employees; they would have seen me struggling._

The Captain's grip did not loosen, and another tug elicited a sharp pain in her shoulder. Seeing that she was attempting to get away, the two guards pointed their guns at her.

"No, don't shoot! I don't want her damaged!" The white-coated man yelled.

"_Hel_ – !" Her scream was cut short when a gloved hand clamped over her mouth. _Why isn't anyone coming to help? Can't they see what's happening?!_ She struggled to pull the hand from her mouth, twisting and turning before something sharp pressed against her neck. A numbing sensation spread through her limbs and the small pain left a second later.

"You still had some? Should have used it sooner…" The thin man was speaking, but both her hearing and vision were fogging over.

The hand left her mouth and she released a sigh, unable to put any strength behind the exhalation. Her legs gave out and she fell backwards against something firm.

_No… I can't…_

Against her will, and full of regret, her eyelids lowered as she passed into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you to my reviewer: kurama1m2, as well as to those of you who put this story on your alert/favorite list!**

***Classes are starting soon, so it is with a heavy heart that I tell you all: updates will (more than likely) be less frequent. :( But do not despair; this story is not being dropped!**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

Everything was blurry, and although Amelia could clearly hear someone speaking, she wasn't able to piece together the meaning of their words.

Her body felt like it dropped a few feet suddenly, and she sucked in a deep breath. _What's… going on?_ Blinking, her vision sharpened, although her thoughts remained a little sluggish.

For another couple of minutes she tried to focus on her surroundings and the voice. Her stomach felt queasy, and when she moved to put her hand on it in a comforting gesture, something brushed against her arm.

"…be a problem. It's probably the sedative wearing off."

A rumbling noise was coming from all around. She was in a jet – most likely the one she saw before losing consciousness.

She was strapped in a chair, a small table in front of her; across from her sat the man in the stained white coat. The dark patches were beginning to look a lot like blood, now that there was proper lighting around them.

Turning her head to the side, she saw a brown coat. That was familiar, although she wasn't going to tilt her head up to bother confirming her suspicions as to who was wearing the coat. Now that her senses were returning, the earlier events came back to haunt her.

"Good morning, Miss Harker." The man in white smiled at her, closing a thick binder sitting in his lap and placing it on the table.

Amelia's eyes remained on his hands, noticing that his gloves were missing a finger – and that both his ring finger and little finger were stuffed into the same fabric space. When she was able to drag her eyes back to his face, his expression was amused.

"Who are you, and where are you taking me?" Her voice was level but weak, and she squeezed the cuffs of her coat sleeves.

"We are an older company," replied the man, loosely crossing his arms. "One which has laid low, waiting for the right time to resurface. You may call me Doc; I look forward to working with you in the coming days. Next to you is the Captain, who was kind enough to escort you here."

_I think I'm going to be sick._ Amelia squirmed in her seat during the introduction, trying to hold back the frightened tears that were threatening to fall.

"As for where we are headed, South America is as specific as I can get with you." Doc leaned forward a little, lenses flashing in the light. "Would you like something to eat, Miss Harker? You don't look at all well."

"No." Her voice was strained. "I –," her cheeks darkened despite her predicament, "I need to use the bathroom. Now."

"I see," Doc said, and nodded to someone behind her.

Hands shaking, she managed to undo her seatbelt. The man next to her removed himself from his seat, and she quickly shuffled out and into the aisle.

Spotting a sign for the lavatory at the back of the jet, she pushed past of couple of standing men in uniforms, the unpleasant sensation in her stomach rising. Pulling open the door, she stumbled inside the bathroom, not bothering to lock the door behind her.

Leaning over the toilet, she retched, despite her stomach being empty. Her eyes burned again, and this time she was unable to hold back the tears.

A single, sharp knock came from the other side of the door.

"I'm…" She rasped, her throat sore. "…Fine." The last word was no louder than a whisper. It was a horrible lie, but she really didn't want to be bothered.

Coughing, she steadied herself for a couple of minutes, not moving until she was sure nothing more would come up. Then she unrolled the toilet paper and wiped her mouth before flushing it down. Rubbing her sleeve across her eyes, she washed her mouth out with water from the sink.

The nausea was gone, but she was beginning to feel cold; it was probably dehydration.

The bathroom door opened slowly from the outside, revealing the large frame of the Captain.

_Probably came to make sure I'm not trying to kill myself._ She smiled mirthlessly and pushed herself away from the sink, grabbing the doorframe for support.

The silent man took a step back to let her pass.

For a moment she stood still, staring at the buttons on the chest of his coat, taking deep breaths. _You've got to keep your wits about you. Think, Amelia. If you can't stay calm, you won't be able to find a way out of this mess._

Her gaze dropped to the floor and she stepped out of the doorway, moving down the aisle and back to her seat. Buckling herself in, she folded her arms over her stomach and looked out the window. It was dark out, but the sky was shifting to a lighter shade of blue. The view was much more interesting than either of the men sitting around her.

Doc had pulled out a pen and opened the binder, scribbling something on one of the pages. The Captain sat as motionless as a statue, and although he was facing forward, she had a feeling he was watching her.

Her eyelids lowered, but she forced herself to stay awake. Sleep, or any form of unconsciousness, was the enemy right now. She was better off – safer – if she was awake.

"It's so lifeless in here, Doc." Guns were raised, Amelia stifled a gasp, and all heads but the Captain's turned at the high-pitched boyish voice.

"Schrödinger!" The spectacled man moved to stand, only for his seatbelt to catch him, sending him flopping back in the seat. Grumbling in annoyance, he released the lock and in a few steps was standing in front of the one who had interrupted the silence.

Confusion set itself on Amelia's face as she looked at the new arrival, who had appeared out of nowhere.

A young teenage boy dressed in a Hitler Youth uniform sat on the arm rest of a seat across the aisle. Pink eyes opened wide in innocence, and feline ears flattened against his head as the thin man grabbed him by his collar and gave him a shake.

_Those ears – are they real? He's like some kind of cat-boy… thing: a character out of father's stories._

"Schrödinger, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be with the Major!"

"The Major sent me to check up on things – see if you're doing your job." The boy gave a particularly cat-like grin, teasing the older man.

Doc's jaw clenched and he looked like he was seriously considering strangling the teenager.

"Eh?" Schrödinger seemed to notice her then, leaning out from behind the Captain to look at him. His expression turned to one of unsuccessfully feigned disinterest, head cocked to the side. He stared at her.

She stared back at him, uncertainly.

He leaned forward. "Guten Morgen."

She didn't move.

He still wasn't blinking.

Amelia looked away, her face flushed, and leaned back in the seat so that the Captain's body hid her from the cat-boy's relentless stare. The inhuman teen's undivided attention was making her uncomfortable.

"Stop staring!" Doc admonished.

The Captain's red eyes darted from her to the males who had begun arguing again. If his face wasn't always emotionless, she was certain it would be weary.

"Get out, Schrödinger! You've done your job, so go report!"

When there was silence, Amelia peeked around the Captain to see Doc standing alone.

"Little pest," he hissed, lowering back into his seat and strapping himself in. "Just ignore him, Miss Harker," he addressed her, reaching into his coat and pulling out a pocket watch, only to scowl at it.

"T-that's not right." She clarified. "My name: it's not Harker."

Doc's frown upturned a little. "Yes, your family had it changed, didn't they? Rest assured, your true last name is Harker."

Not sure what to say to that, she didn't comment further.

"Make yourself comfortable Miss Harker, we still have a long trip ahead of us." He picked up his binder and left her to decide how she would spend her time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you to my reviewers: kuruma1m2 and Ero! Another thank you as well to those who put this story on their alert/favorite list!**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

The overhead speakers crackled and a deep voice said something in German, waking Amelia from her light doze. Frowning at the words she could not understand, she glanced at Doc.

"If you wouldn't mind cooperating, Miss Harker," he smiled, excited anticipation freezing the expression on his face, "we need to give you a couple of accessories before the landing."

One of his spindly arms extended to pull down the shutter of the window beside her, and she leaned away from the limb.

"Nothing harmful; you'll only have to wear them until we're inside." He withdrew his arm, as if the explanation would calm her. "A blindfold and earmuffs," he added when her suspicious expression did not change.

Someone moved behind her, and a dark fabric was suddenly pulled tightly around her head and knotted, covering her eyes. The hands left her head for a moment before the leather earmuffs were placed over her ears, silencing everything.

For a few seconds she remained stiff, until she was sure nothing else was going to happen. Now that her sight and hearing had been cut off, her other senses heightened; smell, taste, and touch were everything – although the last was most likely the only one that would help her.

For what seemed like at least another half hour they were in the air, their altitude dropping little by little and made all the more disorienting with her limited senses. The landing nearly gave her a heart attack, and despite the horrors surely waiting in her future, there was no denying the comfort in knowing she was going to be getting off the jet.

Something tapped her shoulder, and she assumed she was meant to get up. Sliding her hands along the seat belt to find the buckle, she undid it and reached forward for the table she knew was there to help her straighten.

What felt like a hand wrapped around her right upper arm while another rested on her opposite shoulder, guiding her out into the aisle. Her balance was weakened, but she managed not to fall or trip as she took careful steps forward.

At one point the hand on her shoulder tightened its grip, and she stopped moving as a cool breeze caressed her cheeks. It was nothing like the harsh autumn wind back home.

The hands spun her around so that her back was to the wind before relinquishing their hold.

Her lips parted slightly in silent questioning, and she let out a small noise of surprise when she felt something move around her waist.

For a third time in twenty-four hours, she was lifted up and draped over someone's shoulder.

It would probably take them longer to reach their destination if she was walking. Now she couldn't even rely on her sense of touch to try and find out where she was being taken. There was nothing distinctive about the scent on the wind either – all she could discern was that she was outside.

The Captain descended several stairs judging by the way his shoulder kept jarring into her gut, before moving forward on relatively even ground. They continued on like this for a while, keeping at a brisk but even pace.

When she was finally lowered and helped gain her footing, there was sweat on her brow. The breeze was gone, and her clothes were too heavy for the mild temperature.

She let a pair of hands remove the earmuffs and blindfold before she blinked in the light, rubbing at her itching eyes.

A long undecorated corridor stretched out in front of them, and with an encouraging push from behind, Amelia followed the blood-stained man down it.

Every once in a while a soldier would stand aside to let their company pass respectfully, save for the leers sent her way and the occasional derogatory term in German. Folding her arms over her chest defensively, she wished herself invisible.

Turning left at the end of the corridor, they came upon a heavy door with a security pad. Entering the code, Doc stepped into the room and gestured for her to follow as lights came on overhead, illuminating medical instruments.

To the soldiers who were escorting them, he gave a dismissive wave. A couple of them grumbled under their breath but turned away.

"I do not require any further aid," the doctor commented with his back to her. "The Major may need you."

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that the Captain was standing there. The tall man nodded and exited the laboratory, the large door sliding shut behind him.

Not sure what to do now that she was alone with the doctor, she stood still, trying to ignore the sharp objects, blood stains, and surgical tables around her. Running was an option, but considering where she was and who she was with, it might have been safer to stay put.

The thin blonde was moving around the large room in quick strides, mumbling to himself. He went to a cluttered desk and opened a drawer, glasses clinking inside before he pulled out a flask of transparent liquid. Spinning on his heel, he headed for a file cabinet but abruptly paused, head whipping in her direction. "You're not showering?"

Her face heated at the thought.

"I'm getting ahead of myself," he frowned and returned to the desk, placing the flask on it. Then he moved to the back of the lab, opening the single door in the wall. The room behind it was long and brightly lit, and from where she was standing, she could make out doors lining both sides.

Doc disappeared for a minute before returning with articles of clothing in his hands. Seeing her in the same spot, his shoulders sagged and he sighed, waving for her to come closer. "Quickly, quickly," he muttered.

Amelia managed to drag herself towards him, and he held out the white garments. She silently accepted them, looking at them blankly.

"There are showers." The thin man stepped aside for her to more clearly see the room he had just emerged from. It was a bathroom full of shower and toilet stalls, and unlike the lab, was not covered in blood.

When she didn't enter the adjoining room, he tilted his head, growing impatient. "I trust you can clean yourself up. No one else will be in there with you, and I will certainly _not_ peep." She must not have looked convinced, for his next words held the same tone of frustration that had been directed towards the cat-boy Schrödinger on the jet.

"Miss Harker, if you cannot perform such a task on your own, then you leave me no choice but to _accompany you and scrub you down myself_."

Her face paled and she scurried into the bathroom.

Doc shut the door behind her and shook his head. "_Teenagers_."

* * *

The shower would have been much more enjoyable if it weren't for her fear of someone intruding on her privacy. It was a surprise that she was showering in the first place; what she had expected was much worse.

The clothes Doc gave her were soft and smelled like disinfectant: shorts and a tank top she assumed were meant to serve as underwear, a baggy t-shirt, and sweatpants. Considering their fit, it was probable she was wearing clothing meant for more masculine figures.

Dressed and holding her dirty clothes and shoes, she peered out into the laboratory. The doctor was leaning over a table with several liquid-filled beakers around him, and he looked up when she opened the door.

"Throw away those dirty things; you don't need them." He referred to her clothes, stepping away from the table.

She set her belongings down on the bathroom floor, reluctant to throw them out. They hadn't been a cheap purchase, but they would not do her any good. Having checked the coat pockets, she discovered that her license and the card given to her by Clive Richards were missing.

The lab floor was cold as she stepped out with bare feet, and she hugged herself to keep the chill from spreading through her body.

"Now," Doc rubbed his gloved hands together, "I need to run some tests, so if you'll sit yourself on that table on the left…"

_Tests?_ Her heartbeat sped up and she balled her hands into fists.

"I'm sure you've been to the doctor before, Miss Harker. Think of this as any ordinary visit. Of course, I'll need a few samples – saliva, urine, blood – but otherwise a very normal check-up."

Amelia swallowed heavily and walked stiffly to the table he had pointed out and pushed herself up onto the elevated surface.

Like her doctor back in England, the thin man checked her vision, the back of her throat, ears, and the rest in a professional manner. He sent her to back to the bathroom – much to her relief – for the urine sample, and she managed to gather enough saliva in her dry mouth to spit into a beaker.

It was when Doc returned carrying a needle with a tube connecting it to an empty medical pouch that she got anxious. Finger pricks from nurses were bad enough, but never had a needle been inserted in her arm like an IV or blood transfusion.

"There is no other way," Doc said, as if hearing her panicked thoughts, and set the supplies on the table beside her. "But you need to eat something first. After that, we'll continue."

_As if I'll be able to stomach anything, knowing what's coming next._


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to my reviewers: TheShineyMarbles and Guest, and to those who put this story on their alert/favorite list! **

**Yes, I'm alive! The school year has been very busy thus far, and will continue to be for a while; so again, update times are uncertain. **

**On another note, I should have probably said announced this in the first chapter: Alucard will not be coming in to this story until…probably the second half, which we have not reached yet. This is, after all, an OCxHans G. /Captain work of literature, so the majority of Amelia's interactions will be with Millennium. Alright, that's enough chat from me. On with the story!**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

Hugging herself for comfort and warmth, Amelia followed the doctor down the cold hallway, reluctantly moving closer to him whenever they passed a soldier. There must have not been many females among them, as the majority of the men she passed stared at her either lecherously or as though they had never seen a member of the opposite sex before.

Trying to distract herself from the pair of eyes she felt on her back, she looked at the blank walls, searching for anything and listening for sounds that might give away her location.

Judging by the size of the corridors, whatever sort of facility she was being kept was not small in size or lacking the money to finance its construction. The floor and metallic walls were clean, and aside from the doctor's garments, all uniforms looked new and expensive on those they crossed paths with.

The only noises she heard on the walk were the German mutterings of a couple of officers and her own muffled footsteps. Besides these, all else was quiet, as though the facility was soundproof.

Doc halted in front of a wooden door, its structure looking out of place against the surrounding steel walls. One might have thought that everything was built for the purpose of defending from a military invasion.

After knocking, he opened the door half way to pause. "Major. I did not think you would be here."

From behind the gangly scientist, Amelia glimpsed a man sitting at a long table, a wine glass and plate of food in front of him.

"We can come later." Doc nodded as if this was a wise decision before moving to close the door.

"No, no." A voice stopped him, and there was the delicate ring of silverware against china. "Bring her in. I want to meet the little Frӓulein."

Amelia didn't like the man's voice; it sounded sickly jovial, if not a little malicious.

The doctor pushed the door open wider and stepped aside to let her enter the room, following behind and silently shutting the door.

At the head of the table sat the man Doc had called Major, dressed in white with his light hair combed back neatly. The soft light cast shadows across his face, and he smiled, the expression reminding her of an inmate attempting to play the role of the sane man.

Standing behind the man in charge was the Captain, quiet and face partially hidden by his cap and collar.

The Major pointed his fork toward one of the chairs at the table, a gesture for her to sit.

Without a word she sat down, balling her hands into fists in her lap and staring at the white table cloth. There was some relief in not having to take a seat directly beside him, but at a distance.

The Major stabbed a piece of steak with his fork and raised it to his mouth, watching her. He chuckled lightly after swallowing and asked in an amused voice, "You're sure this is her?"

She glanced from Doc who had taken a seat beside her to the Major. Realizing he was still observing her, she looked back to the table.

"I'm running the tests now to confirm it, and I'm going to take some blood after she eats. But I'm already positive about it, Major."

"Excellent! It will be good to begin moving forward again. And what is your name, little Frӓulein?"

Amelia's heart skipped a beat when he addressed her, and she spared him another quick glance, although her eyes did not meet his. "Amelia." Voice tight, she swallowed to loosen her constricting throat. It was likely the Major already knew her name, asking the question only to enjoy seeing her discomfort.

"Amelia Harker… Quite different from our other guest. She was not so timid."

Amelia frowned at his statement. _Now he's calling me Harker too!_

"There it is!" The Major hissed and she jumped, unable to stop herself from staring at the portly man after his sudden exclamation. "That's it!" His grin grew wider. "That emotion in the eyes: the ignorance, anger, suspicion. Those are the same eyes that She looked upon us with when we brought her here."

_Who is this "she" he keeps talking about? And why do these…psychos…act like they know some dark secret concerning me? What could they possibly know that I don't?_ She glanced at Doc, who looked vaguely bored.

When her confused expression did not change, the Major's eyebrows rose. "The little Frӓulein is in the dark, is she?" He looked to the doctor.

"I believe so," Doc slowly replied. "Jonathon Harker supposedly withdrew from society after everything that happened. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose?"

"If not a little dangerous," the Major added. "Tell me, little Frӓulein: do you like war?" He put down the silverware and leaned back in his chair, waiting for her reply.

"No." Her answer was immediate and unwavering.

"You don't love the thrill in struggling between life and death; the excitement of not knowing who will win until the game's over?"

Amelia shrank back in her chair, disturbed by the animation that had come over his character in discussing such a topic. She gave her head a shake, keeping her eyes on him. Not that she wanted to look at him, but she felt that turning away would be the equivalent of putting her back to a wild animal. "I would not like that."

_Is he expecting me to agree with his feelings? Maybe he's trying to test me…_

"But war is a game! And who does not enjoy games?" Unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, Amelia opted to remain silent.

"I _love_ war. I love the violence, the struggle, the passion, the sacrifice, the fire, the chaos. I love the machinations of war, the tragedies that occur because of war. Screams and cries of the oppressed and dying are music to my ears." The Major's fists clenched in the ardor of his confession, and the crescendo of his voice suddenly gave way to silence.

After a moment, he continued more lowly, as if speaking to himself. "War. Conflict. Competition. It is the instinct of all living things. And our intention is to give in to it."

Amelia let out an inaudible breath. She had forgotten to breathe during his little speech, and now she let the words of the Major sink in as she tried to steady her panic. _These people really are crazy; especially this guy! No mentally healthy human would have such a strong bloodlust. He obviously wants to start another world war, but where am I supposed to fit into this picture?_ _What could I have that he needs?_

When the Major did not say anything more, she decided to ask the question. She would probably regret inquiring, but it would be better than not knowing what terrible plans they had in store for her. "You said you wanted war. S-so why did you abduct me?" If she figured out what he was looking for, she might be able to find a way to keep this neo-Nazi organization from obtaining it.

"I want a war that is bigger than the past couple the world has seen – a battle that will drown everyone and everything. Millennium exists to unleash such a cataclysmic war upon the Earth; and you are here to help us do so."

_He really thinks I'm going to help him destroy the world? I can't do that! No individual has the power to accomplish such a thing._

The Major leaned forward against the table, steepling his gloved fingers. "Do you believe in monsters, little Frӓulein?"

Amelia's head tilted back slightly in surprise at the strangeness of his question. Unsure what he was getting at, she began to shake her head. "I –," she suddenly remembered the boy with cat ears, who had appeared and disappeared on the jet without a trace. "What do you mean by 'monsters'?"

Noticing her hesitation, the Major's grin grew wide. "I'm not describing human beings. I'm speaking of the monsters mentioned in olden tales; vampires, for example."

There was a pause.

"No."

"Then allow me to enlighten you: monsters exist. The vampire is a perfect example – a being so horrifying and strange and wonderful that it seems a physical impossibility. But such a creature does thrive, even as we speak, sustaining itself on the life-blood of both humans and other ghouls. Every once in a while, something like this will crawl out of Hell to grace the world with its presence."

Amelia didn't know what to say. What could she say? It was crazy to suggest that monsters from scary stories existed.

"I'm sure you know of the story of Dracula? And of the young Mina Harker?" The Major interrupted her thoughts.

She nodded. _That's the name of my grandmother, but for him to say she was… It's only a coincidence. People with the same name exist all over the world. He wants me to accept that my grandmother was attacked by a vampire – specifically, by Dracula? Yeah, right._

"Your grandmother was the woman in the story; the one who survived in the shadow of the first vampire. Imagine what kind of power she might have – how that potential could be harnessed and bestowed upon others! The essence, the blood of a vampire, running through her veins! Needless to say, we located her and brought her here."

_They kidnapped her? If that's true, they should be at least eighty years old by now._ Amelia folded her arms tightly, and the Major's golden eyes flickered to the crossed limbs.

"Your posture suggests you doubt me, but I have no reason to lie. Do you not believe that man-kind has been making progress all these years, learning from its past mistakes?" He gave a small shrug at his own question, the grin never leaving his face. "Millennium is older than you think; not your average group of occultists or neo-Nazis. You'll see for yourself, in time."

"You said you kidnapped my grandmother?" Her voice sounded weaker now, as a sudden uneasiness came over her at the Major's assurance.

"Yes, yes, we did all of that. Tracked her down, broke down the front door, stormed into the sitting room where she was reading, dragged her out of the house…"

Amelia could feel tears threaten to fall. He was talking as if she weren't in the room, as if he had forgotten her relation to the woman. It was true that she never met her grandmother, but she was still family, and imagining this man doing such things to a family member…

"…And locked her in a cell. Unfortunately, time was no more merciful than we, and our efforts came to a halt a couple years ago as a result of her condition. That's when we were required to set aside our plans for a few months and do some research. Someone was protecting your family, making it troublesome to find the surviving descendants; but we persevered and learned of you and your father. The dead would not do us nearly enough good, so naturally, you were the remaining option."

The Major picked up his wine glass, swirling its red content. "There is no need to worry now that you are here, little Frӓulein. We are an intelligent species, and as I said before, we learn from our past mistakes."

Raising the glass as though he were making a toast, he eyed her over the rim. "Let us create some companions," he put a hand to his chest, "to aid the monsters in war."

* * *

**Thoughts: Being a cyborg, does the Major need to eat and drink? I can't say for sure, but I am supposing he needs to obtain nourishment for his remaining organic parts.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I am very grateful to my reviewers: DUXGIRL1, Androgynous-Heron, kurama1m2, animeninja1418, xXSakura-Him-SamaXx, and Chocoholics Unite, and to those who have put this story on their alert/favorite list! You're all motivating me to keep up with this story, and I appreciate your enthusiasm and support! I would also like to thank all of my silent readers as well – you know who you are – for your interest in the story (hopefully, continued interest)!**

**My goodness, October was busy, and this month seems to be heading in the same direction; December can't come quick enough. -_-' I intended to finish editing and publish this chapter on Halloween, but as luck would have it, I got sick. **

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

The contents of Amelia's recently-filled stomach churned as she sat beside a table of needles, vials, and other medical instruments that made her feel wholly uncomfortable. Despite her initial reluctance, she had eaten all the food that was offered, not knowing when her next meal would be.

Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, and she avoided looking at the doctor as he approached the table. She knew what was coming.

_Calm down! You've gotten shots before and lived. He said he was just going to take some blood and… And… _She swallowed. Her throat was dry. _And then they'll see that all of this is silly, and vampires _do not _exist, even if they thought they did before…_

She gave up on her attempts at optimistic thought; it was more realistic for the worst expectations to be met.

The doctor spoke up excitedly, startling her from the silence. "Let's begin, Miss Harker. Hold out your arm."

Ready to get the event over with, she offered the doctor her left arm and looked away. There was a damp sensation against the inside of her elbow, and her muscles tensed in anticipation.

"The more tense you are, the more it hurts," Doc mumbled, giving a small shake of his head.

Amelia glanced at the doctor, instantly regretting it when she caught sight of the needle in his hand. She looked away again, eyes darting towards a bookshelf where she caught a glimpse of movement. Squinting to analyze the shelf, she recognized the teen peeking out from behind the shelf.

A startled exhalation left her, just as she felt something sharp break the skin of her inner elbow. She looked back to her arm at the sudden pain, staring with wide eyes at the needle in her arm.

"It's not that bad." The doctor commented, face tilting in her direction.

After several seconds, Amelia managed to tear her gaze away from the tube filling with red liquid and towards the bookshelf, only to find the teenager gone. "That…" she whispered, her right hand making a fist at the discomfort in her left arm.

"What's the matter?" Doc asked, not sounding particularly worried.

Amelia's mouth had gone dry, and it took her a few seconds to answer. "That boy…"

The doctor stopped fiddling with the needle in her arm. "Schrödinger?" He seemed patient enough to answer her, so she continued, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret.

"Is he," she frowned, hesitating, "real?" She finished lamely, not sure how she was supposed to ask about the strange teenager.

"For the time being," was the cryptic answer she received, much to her dissatisfaction. The thin man straightened from his hunched position over her arm, and the smile on his face turned into a flat line. "You saw him in here didn't you?"

He spun on his heel without waiting for a reply and regarded the large room with an air of frustration. "I know you're still in here! What have I told you about coming in without my permission?" As soon as the words left his mouth, a groan echoed through the laboratory.

The blonde cat-eared male was at the doctor's desk, slumped in his chair. Amelia blinked, unsure if she had not seen him sitting there earlier.

"But you'd _never_ let me in here," pouted Schrödinger, feline ears twitching. His pink eyes flickered in Amelia's direction.

_Great, he's doing that creepy staring again._ She leaned to the side so that the doctor blocked his view of her.

"That's the point," Doc replied, heaving a long sigh. "I don't know why you never pester someone else when they're busy."

"Because this is fun," Schrödinger smiled, stretching his arms behind his head before pushing himself up in the chair. "There's somebody new. She won't try to kill me like Zorin, and she probably doesn't sing all day either."

Amelia frowned from behind Doc. A group of Nazis and its war-monger leader were already interested in her; she didn't want that list to grow any longer.

"You can spend as much time as you want with her, only _when I am not around_." Schrödinger perked up at this, and Amelia's shoulders sagged. "Now get out," snapped Doc, turning his back to the cat-boy, who stuck his tongue out and promptly disappeared.

Amelia's mouth opened in surprise. _He just disappeared – teleported?! That would explain his appearance and exit on the jet, but how? He's not from father's stories, but like the Cheshire Cat…_

She regarded Doc, who began pulling out vials from the rack on the table beside her, with a newfound fear and reluctant curiosity. _A cat-boy who can disappear at will, a Major who talks about vampires as though they exist, and that Captain, too, who is clearly _not_ an albino. They're not just Nazis or some fanatical cult. What are they really?_

Her eyes travelled down to the fluid-filled tube attached to the other end of the needle. Goosebumps broke out on her arms. _Monsters._ _Maybe Doc experimented on Schrödinger?_ _Oh God, I'm not going to grow cat ears too, am I?_

* * *

Doc carefully picked up the rack of blood-filled vials and turned to Amelia. "Behind that green curtain is a room," he gestured with a nod of his head. "_Not_ behind the blue curtain or any of the other colored fabrics, but behind the _green_ one," he emphasized slowly, as though she might have trouble comprehending his words. "You will sleep in there. I would not advise you to leave this area – there is no guaranteeing your safety if you wander around alone."

With a swish of his stained coat, he moved for the exit of the laboratory. When he reached the control pad he hesitated, looking over his shoulder. "It would also be prudent of you to not touch anything in this room – look around all you like." His expression turned dark. "If that brat comes in here, make sure he does not touch anything."

Amelia rubbed at her bandaged arm and released an inaudible sigh. _I'm a prisoner and they're making me babysit? Anyway, how am I supposed to look after someone who comes and goes as he pleases?_ She had no intention of leaving the laboratory on her own, and the doctor's warning only supported her belief that she was making the right decision not to do so.

The doors slid shut and the laboratory was silent, save for the humming of a generator and a couple of other strange machines.

She gave a furtive glance around the room. _If I can get away before Schrödinger knows the doctor is gone, maybe he won't bother me?_ No sign of the feline teenager.

Tip-toing to the faded green curtain, she warily pulled it back, half-expecting to see something horrific behind it. There was only a door. Testing the knob, she found it unlocked and pushed the door open.

Flipping the light switch, she found a decent sized room with white walls, a bed in the corner with clean sheets, a small wooden dresser, and no windows. It was all a little too white, and reminded her very much of a hospital room; but the real problem was Schrödinger, who lie sprawled out on her bed. His eyes were closed, but Amelia had a hunch that he was not asleep.

She looked at the green curtain behind her, separating the room from the rest of the lab. Stay in the lab of a mad scientist or sit in a room and endure the hybrid teenager's presence…? Neither sounded appealing, but in the end her exhaustion won out.

Approaching the bed, she reached out and poked the male's shoulder. Pink eyes opened and Schrödinger's mouth stretched into a sharp-toothed grin.

Keeping her expression blank, Amelia took a step back. "Will you please get out of the bed? I'm tired –" Schrödinger's mouth opened, and she quickly finished, "– and not in the mood to talk."

The cat-boy sat up and let his legs hang over the side of the bed, kicking them back and forth. "Doc said I could come when he's not around." Schrödinger replied, grin still in place, and seemingly ignoring her comment. "You're another Harker, ja? Do _you_ have fangs? The other one did…"

Amelia shook her head after a pause, caught off guard by the remark. A moment later she walked to the bed and sat down as far away as possible from the other teenager. _If I'm boring, he'll leave…_

"Have you drunk someone's blood before?"

Another head shake.

"Do you have advanced reflexes?"

Another head shake.

The smile faded and dark cat ears flattened in annoyance at her silent answers. It was difficult to stop staring at them when they wouldn't stop moving. "You smell weird."

"What?" Her response was instantaneous, and she cursed herself a moment later for letting an answer slip out.

Schrödinger leaned in close and sniffed as she leaned away. "You don't smell like the others. Not like the Battalion, but not like the Werewolves either."

The teenager was invading her personal space and giving no indication that he would move away. She would have thought he was messing with her, but his eyebrows now bent down in a curious fashion, and the Cheshire grin had flattened.

"Would you mind not doing that?" Amelia slowly extended her arm and gently pushed him away at his shoulder; he did not resist.

"Doing what?"

She withdrew her hand and scratched her bandaged arm awkwardly. "People don't smell each other. At least, not like that."

Schrödinger's head cocked to the side and he laughed. "You're funny. I think I like you."

Amelia's face turned red and she looked away.

"Maybe you'll last longer than She."

The statement made the older teen stiffen. Turning back towards Schrödinger, the color swiftly drained from her face. The cat-boy wore a closed-eyed grin that suddenly seemed less childish and silly, and for a second, Amelia was afraid of him. _He's just as insane as everyone else._

"Ja, She was amusing too; maybe too amusing, since she didn't last long enough for Doc to complete his work."

Amelia's eyes began to burn, and she clenched her jaw. Anger rose in her chest, casting her fear aside.

Schrödinger's eyes opened, and he appeared as an obnoxious teenager again. "Hey, you look like Doc with that face!" Clapping his hands, he pointed at her with a snicker. "Except he's not as sensitive as you. I've never seen him cry before." His nose wrinkled slightly in distaste.

Amelia sniffed and stood up, rubbing at her eyes. "Leave me alone," she said, her voice low.

"Eh?"

"_Get out_." There was no point in trying to hide the tears because now they wouldn't stop. Feelings of sadness and hatred overwhelmed her, threatening to break her self-control.

Facing Schrödinger, she pulled him off the bed by the front of his shirt, unsure if she was about to punch him or not. Her free hand was clamped into a fist as if ready to do so, while the cat-boy on the receiving end of her teary-eyed glare seemed unable to make up his mind between leaving and making another comment.

"_You_…" Her voice cracked, cutting the sentence short.

After a few more seconds, Amelia pushed the teenager away with a grunt, quickly releasing her hold on his shirt for fear that she would otherwise resort to violence. Beating up someone younger than her would undoubtedly bother her later on, even if she thought the boy deserved it. However, her discipline wouldn't hold out for long if said boy lingered in the room.

Tugging the bed's top sheet away from the mattress, she punched her pillow and then curled into a fetal position, wrapping the blankets around her and letting out a muffled sob from within.

Whether Schrödinger stayed in the room a while longer or left was unknown as Amelia cried herself in to a deep yet troubled sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Thank you to my reviewers: xVentressx, AwesomeJellyBean, animeninja1418, Aquarius-Otter, and candiroxs! Your support really motivates me to keep up with this story!**

**Exams are over, Christmas break is here, and I still find myself running around and short on writing time. Ho hum, that's life.**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

"Definitely the granddaughter of She," Doc muttered to himself, biting one of his gloved fingers in excitement as his eyes scanned the stack of amassed information. Making sure the papers were in order, he let out an excited chuckle, pulling his blood-stained glove away from his mouth.

He moved towards the large screen on the other side of the room, briefly typing on the keypad before an image flickered onto the display. "Major? Major are you there?"

After a couple seconds of staring at an empty chair, the man he was searching for appeared far back in the left corner of the screen. "You found something, Doctor?" The overweight man asked, his white frame growing bigger as he moved closer and seated himself in the unoccupied chair.

"Yes," the slender man nodded. "I compared my research on She's DNA with that of our guest. The young woman is definitely Amelia Harker. And, I found traces of black foreign matter in her blood. It's not a virus or a mutation." The Major leaned forward in his chair. "I am sure this is what we've been looking for – it matches the description of the foreign matter also present in She's blood. However," Doc continued carefully, "I believe, at this point, the abilities within Miss Harker lay dormant."

"So we must 'wake her up' in order to continue with our plans."

"Yes, Major. I believe so." The doctor adjusted his spectacles.

On the screen, the fat man leaned back and twiddled his thumbs: a sign of impatience. But he continued to smile. "I see. It is unavoidable, then. You know how to bring out the monster?"

"Ah, not exactly. You will recall that we did not have this issue with She?" He reminded his superior before quickly continuing. "Right now the black matter is nearly undetectable, even with my equipment. As you put it, I need to 'wake her up'; the abilities she unconsciously possesses will not manifest until I do so. I have thought of a few trials that may work: a life-or-death situation, consuming someone else's blood – nothing too serious, since she's not immortal… If all other methods fail to awaken his blood, then I will need to use the last of She's blood."

The Major nodded and light flashed across his glasses, hiding his eyes. "And how much blood is left?" He wondered, his tone optimistic.

Doc's shoulders sagged. "One vial."

"No room for mistakes, Doctor!"

* * *

Integra turned her gaze from the evening sky towards the office doors as Walter entered, directing a small bow her way. "Any good news?" She questioned the butler, although her tone suggested she expected anything but.

Walter came to a stop in front of her desk. "I'm afraid not." He raised a paper in one hand to his face. "Mr. Richards was confirmed to have arrived in Hague, but he has not been seen since Monday evening. His mother reported that he left abruptly before supper, without specifying where he was going. Miss Amelia Seward's house was found empty and there was no sign of a disturbance. Her employer, Mr. Richards' father, claims that she left work Monday evening and did not show up the following morning." Walter lowered the paper, finished delivering the report.

Integra let out a disgruntled breath, a gust of cigar smoke quickly passing between her lips. "What do you think, Walter?"

"I think, Sir Integra, that whomever we are dealing with is very good at covering his tracks."

Integra's eyebrows arched upwards. "A professional?"

"Or a very lucky amateur. I'm inclined to think the former."

Integra slowly spun her chair towards the window, a frown forming on her face. "I doubt this is the work of an individual or something as simple as a ghoul. Has the Vatican a role to play in this?"

"No. Our sources report that there has not been any suspicious behavior within the Church of late. They don't seem to be aware of the events that took place."

"We'll keep it that way."

A troubled silence settled over them as the last of the sunset's light disappeared from the sky.

Blue eyes flickered in Walter's direction. "Have the men widen their search perimeter around Hague. Double check the roads leading in and out of the town. If Amelia was last seen in Hague, then someone would have had to enter and exit the area to take her. Look at the flight records and passenger lists of the surrounding airports – including the one where Richards landed."

"So we'll officially consider this a case of abduction? And what of Mr. Richards?"

"Clive Richards was a good agent. If both he and Amelia are missing, then it is possible that he is no longer alive." Integra watched an exhalation of smoke drift upwards, eyes calculating but distant. "Someone other than Hellsing was interested in Amelia Seward. They were cautious in taking her, made sure no evidence was left, and may have even known about our interest, having removed Richards as well. There are not many with that knowledge of vampires or Hellsing's past actions."

"We dismissed the idea of a ghoul, but that might have been too hasty. Perhaps a ghoul not working alone, but under an individual or organization with access to such secretive information…"

"Where is Alucard?"

"I imagine he is awake by now." Walter glanced at the darkness behind the windows with a small smile.

"Bring him here."

"Yes, Sir Integra." The butler gave a small bow and turned towards the doors to see a mass of writhing shadows appear on the wall. A figure emerged from the blackness, the shadows clinging to his frame to form a crimson suit.

"My Master." The vampire grinned, giving a slight incline of his head.

"I do not approve of your eavesdropping, Alucard." Integra warned with a pointed look at the summoned vampire who moved to stand beside Walter.

"My apologies; I could not resist listening to an interesting conversation."

Ignoring his comment, Integra continued. "A few months ago I asked if you could detect Amelia Seward's presence. I want to know if you can still sense her."

Alucard blinked slowly and was quiet for a moment, his smirk disappearing. "Her presence remains, weak as it is. She is alive."

Integra sighed. "Yet you can give no more information on her than that… Then we will move on to those responsible for her disappearance. As you have fought more enemies of this country than I have, back in the days of my father, you might know who we are dealing with."

"Is this a confession of inexperience?" A sharp grin was on Alucard's face in an instant.

Integra glared back. "I have said no such a thing. Now answer the question: do you know who is behind Amelia Seward's disappearance?"

"In Arthur Hellsing's time I fought armies, forces numbering in the hundreds at least. The subordinates following the final wishes of their dead commanders, the fanatics with a desire to end what their idols began." A deep chuckle came from the vampire. "Abduction. Murder. Stealth. Their efficiency comes with experience. Who has clashed with Hellsing before using armies, the occult as their weapon and point of interest?" He glanced at the butler standing next to him. "I'm sure even Walter remembers them."

Integra looked between the vampire and her butler. "Enlighten me."

Walter cleared his throat. "Alucard and I faced several adversaries in those days, each with their own – _unique_ – characteristics. However, there is one group which meets all of the qualifications Alucard mentioned…"

* * *

**Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A tip of my hat and plate of cookies for my reviewers: devildog452, xVentressx, AwesomeJellyBean, Infinity wolf, xenocanaan, Chocoholics Unite, Maypies and Pie, and KuroNeko513! And thank you to my silent readers and those who have put this story on their alert/favorite list as well! **

**All the canon characters are still in-character, right? I think…? I hope…? I'm trying!**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

Amelia woke to the sound of knocking, panicking when she opened her eyes to an unfamiliar darkness.

"Miss Harker, are you awake?" It was Schrödinger.

Memories of their conversation returned, her sadness replaced by bitterness. For a couple more seconds she remained in bed, wondering if she should reply.

Another pattern of knocks came. "Miss Harker?"

_At least he's not calling me 'Harker' like before._ Out of bed, she made her way to the door, its location made visible by the small sliver of light beneath it. Finding the door unlocked, she twisted the knob, relieved that no unexpected visitors had tried to pay her a visit while she was asleep.

Her eyes narrowed under the bright lights of the lab, then came focus on the person in front of her. She let out a quiet, "O-oh," when she realized the man in brown was not Schrödinger. His red eyes peered down at her, face partially hidden by the upturned collar of his jacket. _The… Captain? I thought I heard that cat-boy?_ She took a small step back, visibly intimidated with the large man standing in front of her.

"So you are up, Miss Harker! Doc says you need to eat." The young male in question poked his head out from behind the Captain's large frame, smiling.

Amelia said nothing; she wasn't ready to talk to Schrödinger again. Instead she settled for looking at the green curtain being held aside in the Captain's hand.

The cat-boy made a small noise of complaint when he caught on to her response. "I'm to take you to your dining room, Miss Harker." He announced as though she should be impressed with the responsibility, his chin up and hands on hips.

The Captain looked down at him, expressionless as always, and the teenager laughed nervously. "Er, we will…" His feline ears twitched.

_You mean 'he.' You just tagged along to talk._

"O-okay, okay, let's go!" The Hitler Youth stiffly turned away and took a couple of steps before glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was following.

* * *

The heavy door that served as the only entrance and exit was tightly shut after Amelia sat down at the small table. Aside from the folding chair and table, the room was empty of furniture or decoration. The wall she was facing had a long one-way mirror, giving her the impression of an interrogation room. Doc was by the door, clipboard in hand, while the Captain stood a few meters in front of him like a guard.

Amelia looked at the meal set out on the table: steak, potatoes, and peas. There was also a glass of what might have been wine.

After a minute of staring at it, the doctor spoke up. "You should eat, Miss Harker. Your iron's a little low, and you need to replenish your energy for the days ahead."

She gave a hesitant nod. "It's just that the drink…" Her sentence fading into silence, she pointed towards the glass of liquid.

"What about it?" He pulled out a pen from his pocket and began writing on the clipboard.

"Is it _alcohol_?"

Doc let out an absent-minded chuckle. "No." He smiled, taking his attention away from the clipboard to watch her.

Feeling awkward under the men's unwavering stares, Amelia refused to look up as she began to eat.

When her plate was almost clean of food, she picked up the glass, trying to discern the identity of the liquid within. Doc said it was not alcohol, but she was reluctant to trust him after the excited smile he had given her. Putting the glass to her lips, she sniffed; it smelled strange. Steeling her nerves, she took a sip. The beverage tasted neither bad nor good, but she decided that she did not like it.

She glanced at the doctor when he leaned forward slightly, still watching.

_Something's definitely in here._ The urge to put down the drink and not touch it again was strong, but she had a feeling that she would not be let out of the room without finishing it all. She took a few reluctant larger gulps, careful to keep her expression as calm as she could manage.

Finishing the remainder of her meal, she looked at Doc, who had finally turned his attention away from her and to his clipboard again. Her relief was short-lived when he stopped writing and returned to observing her a minute later.

Having nothing to do, Amelia sat still, eying the empty plate on the table to avoid any sort of interaction with the other occupants of the room.

For twenty more minutes she did not move, lost in nervous thought while waiting for something to happen. _Am I going to die? Did they poison me? No, no, the Major said they are going to use me. They can't kill me if they want to use me for – what was it – creating monsters, Dracula…? Supposing my grandmother is _the_ Mina Harker from the story, what does that make me? They think, because my grandmother was bitten by a vampire, that I'm part-vampire? I look human. I sleep in a bed at night. I've flown to Paris once, without carrying around dirt from my home. And most importantly, I _hate_ blood._

She stiffened suddenly, stealing a glance at the empty glass. _Blood. Was that blood?_ She repressed a shudder and swallowed heavily._ It didn't taste like it. Maybe there –_

"That's all for now, Miss Harker." Doc interrupted her musings, stowing his pen away in a blood-splattered pocket. "You may go back to your room now." He paused, muttering something that she was unable to catch before exiting the room and leaving her alone with the Captain.

Amelia stood up and winced as the legs of her chair scraped across the floor, piercing the quiet. She looked at the Captain. He had not spoken once since their first meeting – or coughed, sneezed, or made any other noises. In the silence around them, every movement of hers sounded unbearably loud. Tip-toeing to his side, she waited for him to lead the way back to the lab.

When he didn't move she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wondering what was wrong. The Captain was looking down at her, and when she eventually came to meet his gaze, he tilted his head towards the open door.

Amelia was the first to break eye contact, softly stepping through the doorway. _It's different._ Coming from her room, she had trailed behind Schrödinger and the Captain. _Now I'm in front, being watched. What was that drink supposed to do?_

The first three turns she remembered, but following those, she found herself relying on the light tap on her left or right shoulder. The signs in German didn't help either.

When they made it back to the lab entrance, Amelia noticed that the Captain did not prevent her from watching him enter the security code. He knew she was not going to leave the lab on her own – at least, not yet.

Having been returned to the intended destination, Amelia waited for the presence at her back to disappear.

It did not move.

Goosebumps breaking out over her bare arms, she took a few steps away.

The Captain did not follow.

_Why isn't he leaving?_ She didn't like the idea of being in the same room with such a physically intimidating individual. For a second, having the strange cat-boy appear didn't seem like such a bad thing. Unconsciously she pressed a hand to her stomach, where, underneath the layers of clothing, a large bruise darkened her skin.

After standing in silence for some time, she retreated to her room. There was a small chance that the Captain would depart if she was in the small space.

As quietly as possible, she approached the small dresser by the bed, all the while listening for footsteps behind the curtain wall. The drawers were full of neatly folded clothing, all of the same fashion she was currently wearing. Pulling on a pair of socks over her cold feet, she closed the drawers and sat with her back against the side of the bed, listening.

_Is he gone?_ She wondered, staring at the curtain across from her. For what felt like a long while she sat, summoning the resolve to check.

Her steps muffled by socks, she felt a little more stealthy as she went to the curtain. Pulling the green fabric aside by a fraction of an inch, she peered out. The lab seemed empty, the Captain no longer in the spot he had been standing at.

Remaining cautious, she moved the curtain aside further, sticking her head and neck out to widen her scope of vision. With a sharp inhalation, she promptly yanked the curtain back in place and moved away, heart pounding.

The Captain was standing less than a meter from the opposite side of the doorframe. He hadn't looked her way, but there was no doubt that he had seen her.

_I am _not_ staying in this room any longer._ She could feel her panic increasing, the heartbeat in her chest refusing to slow. _Doc said I could go out if I really wanted to… I'll stand out in the lab. I'll look at one of those anatomy charts._ _I'll look at one of those bookshelves. Just not in this room, with a man… _Rubbing her eyes, she let out an unsteady breath.

_That. Won't. Happen. Stay. Calm._ Repeating the thought, she removed her hands from her face and balled them into fists at her sides.

_No one has tried to do anything of that sort. If anything, they've been preventing that from happening – they've kept me away from the soldiers._ The next breath was more controlled. _I'll just walk out. Now._

She let out a couple more deep breaths before pulling the curtain aside again and stepping out into the lab. The Captain was still on the other side of the doorframe, his eyes following her as she headed for one of the doctor's bookshelves.

Reading the spines, she pulled out a large book on Genetics; it was the only book in English on this shelf, and unlike several others, looked like it would not fall apart if touched. Book in hand, she sat down on the spot and flipped to the first page.

* * *

"Nothing."

The Major nodded, his smile still in place and seemingly unfazed by the reply.

On the screen, the doctor crossed his arms, his shoulders stiff and a disappointed frown on his face. "I took a small sample from Miss Harker about an hour ago and there's no change; not that I wholeheartedly believed in the results of the first experiment. It wasn't enough for me to give her the blood of a soldier that had been previously mutated by She's blood. The method was indirect…"

Doc let out an exasperated sigh, trying to sum up everything in nonscientific terms. "If I perform a blood transfusion, it must be between She and Miss Harker."

"And you will use the last of She's blood in doing so."

"I have one more experiment in mind, before it comes to that." The doctor said, his tone conveying both uncertainty and hope. "But it should be said that there is also very little chance that it will work. Perhaps, even a smaller chance than this first experiment."

The Major folded his hands on the table, staring at the screen with interest.

"I am thinking of having her take part in an event that will produce a fight-or-flight response – a physical reaction or mental state strong enough to make that cursed blood of hers stir. I want her to experience a potentially fatal encounter."

The Major's grin had widened so much that Doc paused, waiting for him to laugh.

When a few seconds passed with no such reaction, the man cleared his throat and continued. "Yes, life-threatening… Of course, I have no intention of actually killing or maiming her. She is too valuable right now. I'm going to hold off on beginning the experiment for another few days; I want to make sure that Miss Harker does not show any late – symptoms – before moving on."

"I have confidence in your abilities, Doctor. This experiment of yours should be, if not successful, quite entertaining!"

"Yes, I thought you'd say that," muttered Doc, biting the inside of his cheek.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you to my reviewers: AwesomeJellyBean, Angelic, and Magpies and Pie! I also give my thanks to those of you who have added this story to your alert/favorite lists, and to you too, silent readers. But as long as you're all enjoying this piece composed by my crazy imagination, I am content. :)**

**Lent has come to an end, and so I have returned! **

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

Amelia felt her eyelids lower as she stared at the open book on her lap. She had been looking at the same page for about ten minutes, and had yet to read any of it.

After returning to the laboratory the day before, she had done nothing but flip through Doc's science books half-heartedly.

Every couple of hours the books' owner would enter the room and ask her how she felt, listen to her heart beat, and take a small blood sample. The Captain was always close by when the checkups took place, giving Amelia the impression that her captors were waiting for her to attack someone. But the man only watched, face shadowed by his cap and arms unmoving at his sides.

It was this silent man's fault, Amelia decided, that she had not slept the night before and would likely not sleep tonight. As far as she knew, he had not left the laboratory since escorting her the day before. Being under watch for twenty-four hours was unsettling to say the least, and despite the absence of indecency on his part, she found herself unable to relax.

Now she squinted in concentration at the scribbled writing on the page before her, trying to grasp the meaning of each word. She managed to get through the first sentence before her attempted reading was distracted by a soft rustling noise close by. Wary, she straightened her posture, looking around.

The Captain was gone from his earlier position by Doc's desk. His sudden disappearance from one area and appearance in a different one was becoming routine; he definitely moved around the lab, but Amelia could never catch sight of him in the act.

Seeing no one nearby, she turned back to her book, listening. Another small scraping noise came from the bookcase behind her, the vibrations noticeable against her back even with her layers of clothing. _Behind me?_ Something poked the back of her head, and she twisted around, letting out a surprised gasp and scuttling away from the bookcase, the book in her lap falling to the floor.

The books level with her head had been pushed aside to make room for a youthful face. "Ah, Miss Harker!" Schrödinger's pink eyes darted left and right in a sly manner. "You don't see the Captain do you?" The cat-boy whispered.

"No," Amelia answered, frowning when she realized she was whispering too. _What is this, gossip?_ She leaned closer to catch the teenager's quiet words.

"Do you feel like a vampire? Are you thirsty for blood?"

"What? No." Amelia drew back slightly, looking at the boy crouching on the other side of the bookcase. "Why are you speaking from behind that bookcase?"

The cat-boy pulled a face. "Doc said you could snap unexpectedly. And I get tired of dying left and right, you know?" Oblivious to Amelia's concerned stare at this comment, he continued. "But I came to tell you…" He inched farther between the shelves and grinned. "The Major said you're going to fight." His grin stretched from ear to ear. "Maybe like a gladiator in the Coliseum! Only I don't think you'll be given weapons, and we don't actually have a coliseum."

Amelia was silent as she picked up the fallen book, straightening a couple of its crinkled pages. After a small sigh she stood up, Schrödinger's questioning eyes following her movements. "N-no. No, I can't do that." She turned away, meaning to relocate her reading spot and find a new book.

"Eh? Why not?"

"I don't think I could win."

"Hahaha!" A laugh escaped Schrödinger before he slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening at the volume of the sound. "You're right," he recovered swiftly, his voice quieter, "there's no way you can win against First Lieutenant Zori-_euggh_ –!"

Amelia turned to look back at the strange noise made by the youth, only to see that he was gone. Bending over, she peered around the books and caught sight of a large brown figure.

"But I was just _talking_ to her," she heard Schrödinger protest.

Deciding she didn't want to be confronted about speaking with the cat-boy – especially if she was not supposed to be in contact with anyone other than the Captain and Doc – Amelia quickly tip-toed away down the aisle of bookcases. Finding the shelf she was looking for, she slid the borrowed book back into its place.

The whining voice had fallen silent; Schrödinger must have left.

Pulling out a smaller book in good condition, suggesting a recent publication date, she headed for her room. It was the one place aside from the bathroom where, to her relief, the Captain had yet to enter. Hopefully it would stay that way.

She had gotten as far as the end of the aisle when the Captain stepped out from behind the corner. So as to avoid colliding with him, Amelia pressed her heels into the floor, only to be reminded that she was wearing socks when her feet slipped on the smooth tile. As she tilted backward the Captain moved forward, his hands closing around her forearm and shoulder to keep her from falling while she scrambled to find her footing.

"S-sorry," Amelia muttered nervously as she regained her balance, gaze habitually rising to the Captain's face. The moment her eyes met his, her look turned into a stare. His unnaturally colored eyes were as intriguing and disconcerting as Schrödinger's, and the white hair spilling out from under his cap was still a striking contrast to his younger appearance. Yet, even as Amelia acknowledged that his face showed no sign of the features suggesting increased age, she found that she could not guess how old he was.

It wasn't until the Captain relinquished his hold on her arms that Amelia realized she had been staring at his face for longer than what was appropriate. Looking away in embarrassment, she fidgeted with the book in her hands. Had he come to reprimand her for talking to Schrödinger? With his face always set in the same stern expression, it was hard to tell.

"What Schrödinger said…?" She began, her knuckles turning white as her hold on the book tightened. "Was he telling the truth?" Eyes flickering to the Captain once more – briefly this time – she saw him nod.

New fears surfacing in her mind, she took a step away from the Captain. "I can't fight," she whispered to herself, looking at the book in her hands.

_I'll be killed! I can't win in a real fight against anyone here. It doesn't matter who they want me to fight, _I don't want to fight_; I'm afraid! I don't want to get hurt! I don't want to die! I don't want to suffer! How can they expect me to do something like that? They know I can't do anything; they must know that._ But her choices were limited. Suicide was an option, but the thought of taking her own life was just as terrifying as fighting – and likely impossible with the Captain watching over her.

_If you are unwilling to move forward because you're scared, then are you content with being scared and staying where you are now?_ A small voice in the back of her mind wondered.

Preoccupied with thoughts of the near future, Amelia did not notice the gloved hand reaching out until it lightly, even cautiously, tapped her shoulder. She turned sharply to the hand hovering by her shoulder and then to the Captain. His head tilted to the side in an inquiring manner.

Forcing her fingers to loosen their death-grip on the small book, she realized she was trembling. Quickly moving her hands behind her back to hide them from sight, she dipped her head without answering and hesitantly stepped around the Captain's figure, resuming her walk to the private room. He did not stop her.

Retreating to a corner of her bed, again, one question pricked at her mind: _Are you content with being scared and staying where you are now?_

Amelia clenched her jaw, feeling tears gather in the corners of her eyes. Pressing her hands against her eyelids to keep the salty drops from falling, she let out a resigned breath. "No."


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to my reviewers: AwesomeJellyBean, drizzt, KuroNeko513, xVentressx, Death wolf, Magpies and Pie, XxLuLuTheCrazyxX, devildog452, and InkedCupcake92! A thank you, also, to those of you who have put this story on your alert/favorite list!** **Your words of encouragement and interest in this story really keep me going!**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

A knock sounded on the door, making Amelia bolt upright in the darkness of her room. Carefully untangling her legs from the bed sheets, she moved off the mattress and towards the door, flipping the light switch. Pulling the door open a crack, she peeked out to see who her visitor was.

The Captain looked down at her, his eyes meeting hers before he took a step back, tilting his head to the side.

_He wants me to follow._ Amelia gripped the hem of her shirt tightly, twisting it nervously as her hands began to sweat. _Oh, no. Oh, no._

She mimicked the Captain in taking a step back. "That…"

A few seconds passed, and when she made no move to leave the room, the Captain took a step forward, pushing the door open further. It seemed that a refusal would end in her being carried or dragged somewhere she did not want to go.

Reluctantly, Amelia inched forward, thinking the silent man might throw her over his shoulder even if she demonstrated that she would follow him willingly. But seeing her compliance, the Captain did not advance, instead stepping back again to let her exit the room.

As they left the laboratory, Amelia noticed that the Captain walked next to her, standing closer than he usually would. He probably imagined she would try to run away from the fight. _As if I could move faster than him, or run on such weak legs_, she thought, her lower limbs shaking after each step.

_I told myself I would do something. And I have to do something if I want to get away from this place. But I don't know what I can do._ She glanced at the Captain, who had slowed his pace to match hers. At least he was considerate enough not to rush her into battle.

Her eyes flickered back to the walls, looking for signs that might tell her where they were going as her guide turned her down another unfamiliar hall.

When she was at last ushered through a door, she was surprised to find herself inside a hangar. The hangar itself was larger than a football field, with numerous skylights running along the ceiling showing the purple and blue colors of dawn. Several large wooden crates were stacked in one corner, while a row of wound hoses and electrical equipment were pushed against another wall.

In the middle of the hangar stood two people, and as Amelia approached, she only recognized Doc. One look at the second member of the pair and she felt like she was going to be sick. Although the person possessed a feminine physique, there was something masculine about the way she carried herself.

The woman, in turn, took in Amelia's appearance and sneered, adjusting the item on her shoulder.

_This must be whom Schrödinger was talking about the other day._ Dragging her gaze away from the female's tattoos and asymmetrical facial features, Amelia eyed the weapon. _She has a scythe._ It was clear that her loss in the fight had already been predetermined.

"This is the little rat? Pathetic." The woman spoke up, a barking laugh directed at Amelia. "She won't last five seconds."

Doc stopped writing on his clipboard to look at the woman, capping the pen. "You know the rules."

He then addressed Amelia. "This is First Lieutenant Zorin Blitz. She will be your opponent."

Amelia began to step backwards, only to feel a hand on her back, preventing her from taking the full step. Unconsciously, she leaned towards the Captain, as though he might serve as a barrier, protecting her from the dangerous-looking woman.

"We'll be observing everything," Doc noted, nodding in the direction of a door and a one-way sheet of glass embedded in the wall beside it. Then, turning, he made he was to the door in long strides, calling over his shoulder, "Major's watching!"

The hand left Amelia's back as the Captain moved to follow Doc. Instinctively, Amelia reached out to grab the sleeve of his coat, her expression conveying the fear of a rabbit amidst a pack of starving wolves.

The Captain halted, looking at the sleeve in her grasp. It took Amelia a couple of seconds to realize what she had done, and as the man's hand reached for hers, she quickly released his coat. It was only natural that she wanted to cling to life when facing death. As she watched his retreating figure, she felt her hope slip away.

The door by the window slammed shut, signaling the start of the match.

Zorin's mouth twisted into a cruel smile as she brought the scythe down from her shoulder. In a second she closed the distance between them, slashing up with the scythe in hand.

Caught off guard by the woman's agility, Amelia staggered back, feeling the blade shred through her clothing to break the skin of her left forearm that she raised in defense. Gasping at the sting, she clutched her arm, blood painting her palm as she attempted to stop its flow.

But Zorin was not finished.

The scythe now coming at her legs from the side, Amelia jumped, the blade narrowly missing her feet. As she landed, a boot slammed into her stomach, the force of the kick propelling her back several meters.

"Fuckin' waste of time." Spat Zorin, casually walking over to Amelia as she tried to stand. "I expected more than a little bitch so easily thrown on her back."

_Oh God, she's going to kill me! She's coming! I have to move, or she'll kill me!_ Amelia's mind screamed as she pushed herself off one knee, tears in her eyes. She coughed, attempting to take deep breaths as her opponent drew near. The power behind the kick was much stronger than normal for a woman, whether she was trained in fighting or not.

With a grunt, Amelia managed to pick herself up and move away from Zorin, adrenaline partially distracting her from the pain as her instincts for self-preservation took over. Having no weapons, the only thing she could do was stay on the defensive and keep her distance from the other woman.

Zorin, on the other hand, did not seem to approve of her strategy. "No attacks, no speed, no power. There's nothing special about you."

Again the First Lieutenant came at her, and while Amelia managed to dodge some of her attacks, she was hit more often than not.

Panting hard, she pressed a hand against her left side, where blood was beginning to stain the torn fabric of her shirts. The wound wasn't deep enough to damage her internal organs, but it was bleeding profusely. There was also a slash along her right thigh and both of her shoulders had been cut.

Taking a few unsteady steps back, Amelia nearly lost her balance as her vision swam. _I can't keep up. I'm losing too much blood._ She blinked, trying to stop her vision from blurring, before she felt a sharp blow against her cheek.

For an instant, everything went black.

When the light returned, her head was on the floor and a pair of boots in front of her. One foot lifted in the air, and Amelia watched it come down, her eyes widening in late realization as it landed on her injured forearm. She screamed, thrashing on the ground as the bones cracked under the force of the stomp, tears streaking down her face as she desperately clawed at the boot to try and push it off her arm.

"Still have some fight in you, eh? We'll fix that."

Amelia looked up at Zorin, whose hand was outstretched towards her, a purple mist encircling it and a glowing third eye opening on the palm. Cringing, she shut her eyes tightly.

When there was no pain she dared to open her eyes, finding Zorin gone, along with the hangar. For a minute she remained on the floor, trying to recognize her new surroundings. A small room with a bed pushed against one corner, a window with light blue curtains facing it on another wall. There was a closet in one corner, a picture of Paris hanging next to it.

"Home?" She whispered in confusion, wiping at her eyes. Very slowly she sat up, cradling her left arm. This was her father's room.

Something stirred beneath the covers of the bed, startling her. Using the wall for support, she pushed herself to her feet and edged away from the bed.

"Amelia? Is that you?" A familiar soft voice called as the figure beneath the covers emerged.

Amelia's bottom lip quivered, and more tears began to trickle down her cheeks as she looked away, determined not to glimpse the person's face. She pressed her hands against her ears, shaking her head.

"No, no, no!" She sobbed. "This isn't right! I was with you when… The doctor s-said…" She opened her eyes, staring intently at the floor as she yelled at the man. "You're _dead_!"

"Don't say such terrible things, Amelia." His tone sounded hurt.

Amelia flinched back, a pair of feet suddenly opposite hers, barely a foot away. Despite covering her ears, she could still hear him speak.

"Y-you're not my father! He was buried. The funeral – I remember everything about that day!"

"Amelia? What are you saying? You're my daughter. I would never deny such a thing, or leave you to fend on your own. I know you're scared about going to university, but don't think I'm abandoning you. I'll visit you, once a month at least; you can call whenever you want to talk."

Amelia looked up then, unable to stop herself from seeing the face and hearing the voice she had missed so much. His grey eyes were the same, cold at first glance but vulnerable and gentle. As always, he clothes seemed one size too big, making his small frame even smaller than it already was.

He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me!" Her eyes were alert, but she could feel her strength decreasing quickly; she was already depending on the wall at her back to keep her standing.

"Amelia…" He looked down at his hand, smeared with her blood. "You're bleeding."

"Who –?" Her heart beat seemed to pound inside her head, the question cut short.

"And now you're dying."

Amelia coughed, blood splattering on the floor at her feet. Her eyes travelled the length of her father's arm, coming to stop above her right breast, where his hand was partially buried.

"_Zorin!"_ A far-off voice shouted.

"It's going to be all right, sweetie. We can stay together."

Mouth agape in horror, Amelia gasped as his bloody hand withdrew from her chest. Eyes shining green as he smiled at her, the skin of his face and neck started to peel away, falling at his feet in a wet pile of blood and muscle.

"_I said that's enough!"_

The room and her father suddenly faded into blackness, and for a moment, there was nothing, her body feeling as though it were floating in water.

But the darkness suddenly lightened, blurry shapes moving in Amelia's line of vision and voices attaching to their forms. Her eyes focused, and she glimpsed the hangar skylights above her. _I'm…back?_

"Bring it to me, now!" Doc's angry voice echoed through the hangar, followed by a screech of static. "Damn that woman!"

A moment of silence passed and his temper calmed a little. "Staunch the bleeding with this."

A familiar brown-coated figure moved Amelia so that she was lying in a more upright position, leaning against him. The Captain's shadow hovered over her in observance while she tried to move her left arm, letting out a whimper of pain when she could not. His gloved hands took ahold of her shirt and began to carefully tear it down the front.

The sight of her own blood scared Amelia, reminding her of the fight that she had been taking part in. In a panic, she tried to sit up, only to find she did not have the strength to do so. Still, she reached out with her right arm to grab one of the man's hands to stop him from ripping her shirt any further, frightened and not fully understanding his actions.

"The fight's over, Miss Harker." Doc said from a couple meters away, several medical utensils spread out in front of him. His voice was tight as he held up a tube of red liquid, giving the container a small shake as he examined it in the light. "Calm down. You've been stabbed, and your right lung may be punctured. It would be wise to not move around too much." As if realizing his last comment would not be of much solace, Doc added, "I'm working on it."

A firm pressure against the wound on her chest made Amelia tighten her hold on the Captain, and she looked away from the doctor to the other hand now pressing a cloth to her wound. For a minute she stared at the hand in hers, watching as the white glove absorbed the blood on her hand as she tuned out the world around her.

Her eyelids began to lower and she shook her head, trying to stay awake but only succeeding in making the room spin. _Can't sleep_, she worried, afraid that she might not wake up again if she lost consciousness now.

Doc suddenly appeared on her other side, pulling her hand out of the Captain's. "Make sure she doesn't move; I can only hypothesize what might happen. This is all that's left."

Amelia turned towards the doctor, trying to make sense of his words. And then she saw the hypodermic syringe filled with dark red liquid in his hand. She struggled, attempting to pull her arm away, but Doc let out a frustrated sigh and refused to release her wrist.

The Captain took hold of her right arm, mindful of the shoulder injury, and wrapped his other arm around her back, restraining her movement.

After a couple of seconds, Amelia felt the needle puncture her inner forearm, followed by an uncomfortable itching sensation that spread up her arm.

Once the injection was complete, Doc released her wrist, stepping back a few feet. The itch began to burn as the seconds ticked by, and Amelia winced in pain as it spread from her shoulder to her chest.

As the Captain let go of her arm and loosened his hold on her, Amelia put her right hand to her chest. Her skin didn't feel warmer than it usually did, and her arm was not red or showing any signs of irritation from the injection.

"It's… hot." She croaked, the pain in her chest increasing as she spoke.

The Captain looked from her to the doctor, who had grabbed his clipboard and pen and started muttering to himself as he wrote. Behind him, another man, dressed in a military uniform, held a camcorder, his hands shaking slightly as he recorded the scene.

Stepping closer and giving his clipboard a glance, Doc peered at the wound on Amelia's arm before nodding to the stained cloth over her chest. Moving her hand away from her chest, the Captain peeled off the compress for Doc to examine.

A few seconds of scribbling later, and the doctor stood up from his crouching position, looking towards the hangar's exit. "Let's get her back to the lab."

Replacing the compress on Amelia's chest, and adjusting her in his arms, the Captain headed for the door through which they had entered the hangar, the soldier with the camcorder following.

Feeling the burning sensation spread through her left arm and abdomen, Amelia shut her eyes tightly, the accompanying dizziness making her nauseous.

By the time the group had returned to the laboratory, Amelia had lost consciousness.


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you for the words of encouragement and interest from my reviewers: xVentressx, KuroNeko513, Z0mbieMart, AwesomeJellyBean, Magpies and Pie, AquariusOtter, and gg! And a thank you to those who added this story to their alert/favorite list too! Cookies and muffins of gratitude for you all! *throws imaginary plates of baked goods***

**I should really be updating my Legend of Korra fic before this one, but I'm having too much fun writing this right now! XD**

**Please read, review, and enjoy! : )**

**I do not own **_**Hellsing**_**.**

* * *

A chill crept down Amelia's spine, and she gasped, opening her eyes. Dark clouds edged with red and gold from a rising sun roiled in the sky above her, foreshadowing a storm. She sat up, finding herself situated in the middle of a stone balcony, a large dilapidated building rising up on one side.

_What is this? I thought I was in a hangar? Doc was with me – and the Captain too._

Amelia analyzed the stone structure in confusion, gaze drawn to the shattered glass sitting in the window frames, moss slithering up the walls, and pair of rotting wooden doors leading inside. It looked like the sort of historical building one might find on a postcard; but it was clearly deserted, and there were no signs indicating it was a tourist attraction.

Standing, Amelia felt a draft around her legs, and looking down at herself, found that she was wearing a long-sleeved nightgown. Her feet were without socks or shoes. _Why am I dressed…? _Her heart skipped a beat as she held the white material in her hands.

_My chest…_ She tugged down at the nightgown's collar, only to see pale, unscarred skin where the wound had been.

_Arm…_ Rolling up her left sleeve, she curled her fingers in a fist. _There's nothing broken. My injuries are gone._ Although the realization was comforting, it bothered her that she did not know why, or how.

She turned to the rim of the balcony, desperate to know what was going on. Stepping up to the barrier, she squinted into the pale light of the sun peeking over the horizon.

"Where am I?" A couple of withered trees and shrubs dotted the plain stretching before her, a dried up riverbed running close by and winding its way through the mountains on her left. Amelia rubbed her eyes in disbelief as a cold breeze blew her hair back from her face.

Mouth opening and shutting without a sound, she took a second look at the building behind her. Now she noticed the narrow, slanting roof high above her, the architectural detail around the doors and on the balcony, and the absence if hinges or latches on the window frames, preventing them from being opened.

_It's not an ordinary building – it's a castle, some kind of palace. But why am I here?_ She looked around, uncertain._ There's no one… No one has come to get me. I just woke up on a balcony. I'm wearing this dreadful thing…_ With her anxiety growing, Amelia shut her eyes and held her head, trying to stay calm. Thrown into a foreign environment with no explanations, her subconscious had decided she was in a potentially dangerous situation.

"I'll take a look around. Someone must be here." She whispered, opening her eyes after repeating the phrase several times.

Looking around the balcony, she spotted a staircase leading down on the left. "I can start there." Her other option was to explore the castle, and she wasn't too fond of entering a building that was likely structurally unsound.

At the bottom of the staircase, a stone path pointed her in the direction of a wooden bridge extending across the dried out river. Although the castle was built on level ground, the land became steep a few meters from where Amelia was standing, sinking into a three story drop until it reached the riverbed.

"I-I think I'll find another route," Amelia muttered to herself, eyeing the old bridge with distrust. Keeping the castle wall on her right, she moved away from the bridge. She hadn't seen any signs of civilization from her earlier glimpse of the landscape, but there could have been a town or a marked road on the other side. Doing her best to remain hopeful, she walked to the back of the castle.

In a couple of minutes she found a similar sight, only there was no riverbed and the mountain range now spread out on her right.

_I don't understand!_ Amelia huffed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. _I'm in the middle of nowhere. Why are there no people, no maps telling me where I am? Why does it have to be like this?_ Her chest tightened painfully from the feeling of desertion. _Why am I alone?_ The last time she had felt this way was at her father's funeral, and although apologies had been made in the following weeks, her mother did not attend the service. And Amelia had been left alone.

Clutching at her gown as it was stirred up by the wind, Amelia turned her teary gaze to the sky. The sunlight had become pinkish-red, the storm clouds thickening and threatening to cover the early morning sun within the next few minutes.

A raindrop suddenly splattered on her cheek. _I need to find cover._ She sniffed, wiping at her face and looking around. Along the back of the castle was an archway, promising some shelter from the elements.

Her slow walk turned into a run as the raindrops began to fall harder, and by the time she reached the archway, the top of her gown clung to her frame and her feet wore a layer of mud. There was a pair of doors at the end of the passage, but Amelia hesitated, thinking that since the castle was unoccupied, its halls would be dark. Upset by the thought, she moved away from the entrance to lean against the wall, watching the steady rainfall.

_Maybe I am dreaming, and this is all some horrible nightmare? Can you feel the cold or the rain in a dream?_ With no answers for her questions, Amelia stood in silence.

It might have been her eyes playing tricks on her, but she imagined she could see movement in the rain. Stepping up beside an arch, she squinted to try and get a better view.

There was a dark figure in the rain.

Amelia opened her mouth, ready to call out, but held back at the last second. _If no one is there, I'll look like a fool,_ she frowned, despite her awareness that if a person was not standing in the rain, then there would be no one to witness her mistake. Swallowing her pride, she decided to reach out.

"Hello?" The rain storm easily drowned out her timid call. She leaned out a little farther, a few drops of water splashing on her face.

The figure moved, and Amelia pulled back, hiding herself behind the arch.

_This castle may not be abandoned after all._ Amelia fidgeted with her clothing, suddenly very aware of her half-soaked gown. A sigh left her lips as she wished for her garment to dry.

And then the figure in the rain walked past her and under the shelter of the archway, not even looking her way; the man hadn't seen her. As she pressed against the arch, Amelia forgot to breathe, startled by the unexpected appearance and proximity.

The man's unkempt black hair draped across his shoulders and tumbled down his back, broad shoulders sagging wearily beneath the deep red cloak that settled over his frame.

Despite her trepidation, Amelia stepped forward, only to halt when the man stopped in front of the double doors, his back to her.

Unwilling to let her chance for an encounter escape, Amelia moved closer, putting her less than an arm's length away from the man.

"Excuse me." Her call was quiet for fear that she might unintentionally startle the man if she spoke too loud.

The man stiffened, his head lifting slightly. Silently, he turned to look at her, the action slow and almost reluctant. Red eyes met hers, several wet locks of dark hair falling across his face.

Seeing his bitter expression, Amelia began to regret approaching him; but the man's eyes soon widened in recognition, and his lips parted as though he were about to speak.

A shock of cold suddenly engulfed Amelia, and she shuddered.

Blinking, the man and the castle disappeared to be replaced by a white glove withdrawing from her face.

Disoriented, Amelia tried to sit up, managing to remain propped on her elbows for a few seconds before sinking back down into her pillow.

_My room…_ She recognized the bed sheets pulled over her, and the white interior of the room that depressed her no matter how bright it made the space look.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she jerked away in surprise.

_Captain…_ The tension left her body as she recognized the man.

_What am I doing here? I was…dreaming? Or am I still in a dream?_

Her breathing was labored as she brought her right hand against her chest, feeling bandages elevate the wounded area beneath her shirt. _My injuries… I'm not dead._

Pressing the same hand to her forehead, she felt a damp cloth resting there. _That's what felt so cold. But why give it to me when I'm sweating with these blankets on?_ She kicked the layers off, but instantly hated herself for doing so when the outside air came in contact with her skin, making her shudder again.

The blankets were pulled back over her, and Amelia closed her eyes for a minute, wishing for the shiver to pass before opening them again.

The Captain was tending to her from beside the bed, seated in a chair that had been taken from the lab. For the first time since Amelia had met him, he did not look stiff; hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, he seemed tired.

_I haven't seen him sleep or eat once,_ Amelia thought as she tilted her head farther in his direction, absentmindedly letting her gaze wander to his eyes.

_Red_. She stared, remembering her dream and the strange man who had been out in the rain. _And handsome._ After a few seconds, Amelia realized the thought that had gone through her mind and broke eye contact with the Captain, her cheeks rosy from more than a fever.

* * *

"Excuse me." The words were hardly audible over the hiss of the rain.

Alucard blinked, the corners of his mouth tilting downwards. He recognized the voice, and it was only because he wanted to see her again, as he remembered her, that he chose to acknowledge the speaker.

But when he turned, the girl before him was not the woman he was expecting.

She was young and rather meek looking, her arms wrapped around her half-soaked frame. There was a mixture of fear and hope in her expression, reminding the vampire of the last look given to him by the woman, before she was taken from him.

Time seemed to stop for a heartbeat.

A ghost of a smile formed on Alucard's face.

"Harker."

In the seconds it took the name to leave his lips, the girl was gone, the cold stone walls of the underground room staring back at him without reply.


End file.
